The Flitting
by Sideos
Summary: ONESHOT. Zim is put into an asylum with Dib as company. He has no idea why he's there, although perhaps one can see why if they look hard enough. Sometimes one has to read between the lines and notice the little things to get the full picture. NO ZADR.


_I thought this up because I just love the idea behind flipping the usual fandom stereotypes around. Plus I watched a lot of Fightclub. Anyway, let's see who can get to the subtext and correctly guess just what is going on here. It'll be fun to see who understand the REAL story first. _

_As always, take a gander, read, enjoy, all that rockin stuff. Keep in mind this is a ONESHOT. _

* * *

The hall was noisy, loud and crowded. Some people were shouting, others were simply shuffling in quietly. It didn't really matter after all, they'd eat their food then shuffle back to their rooms or wherever they were supposed to go.

It'd be like any boring office lunchtime or cafeteria in any other place in the world, but for one major difference.

There were large, burly looking men standing around the edges of the room dressed in white uniforms and looking in on the others. Oh sure, everyone there was dressed like any normal person would dress. Some in long sleeves, others in t-shirts, most in jeans.

All with small wrist bands on. Their names written across them and a tiny little electronic chip in each one.

One of them read Zim.

"Dude, you're used to our food now?" Dib laughed across from him. The tall, skinny young man held some fries between his fingers. "You know maybe one day you'll just turn completely human and walk out of here."

"Shut up, meatbag," Zim growled as he slowly cut up his food into perfectly calculated squares. He could only eat his food if it was cut properly. For maximum digestion. "I'm trying to eat this disgusting filth if only because it helps keep my body healthy, therefore keeps my mind healthy, therefore keeps me thinking of ways to escape _and_ strangle you in the same move."

"Right, like you could really think of a way out of here that I totally wouldn't stop." Dib grinned and leaned back, waving a French fry at him. "Seriously. Your plans suck you know."

Dib was wearing a black t-shirt with a swollen eyeball sign on the back and a pair of white sweatpants and no shoes. Zim was a little shorter than the tall, lanky human across from him. How he'd grown he didn't know, it just kind of... happened over one summer. He wore a pair of black sweatpants, no gloves, shoes or socks and a white t-shirt with nothing on it. He also had his wig and contacts, both vastly improved to be more realistic and, well, much less itchy.

The irken growled at the comment. "Shut up, human."

Dib chuckled again and looked to one side before looking back to Zim. "I'm amazed they don't care you're not taking the brain melting pills."

On Zim's food tray was a small cup with three pills inside. At Dib's comment, he lifted the little cup up and smiled at it. "Oh I take them, just that my amazing BRAIN is too powerful to ever be melted by your pathetic human pills." Zim grinned wider in victory as he ate all the pills at once.

"... or that your irken biology just makes them into placebos." Dib replied with a note of interest in his voice. "Wow Zim. Your stupid alien biology was some use for once! I'm shocked."

"Why don't they ever give you any pills?" Zim asked suddenly, pointing to the lack of pill cup on his old enemy's tray.

Dib smiled and looked away, "I think they're still trying to figure out how to deal with me."

"Yes, you are unusual for a human after all," the irken commented, "What with your big head."

Dib frowned back at him and was about to pick a fight before a voice cut in.

"H-h-hey, can I s-s-sit there?" Standing just behind Dib was another boy, this one with wide, tired brown eyes and short black hair. He looked terrified of Zim and was shaking slightly. One glance at his hospital wristband read 'Squee'.

"GET LOST!" Zim snapped loudly, "Can't you see it's taken?"

The boy coward at the alien's shouting. "B-b-but Z-Z-Z-Zim-"

"GO!" Zim pointed to... away from him and growled at Squee, "Or I swear when we do group therapy I'm going to tell them all about your little friend Shmee."

Squee paled, squeaked, and ran off as Zim chuckled evilly. "You humans are so easy to manipulate when your secrets are in danger."

"He's a good kid, Zim," Dib replied with a frown, "You should be nice to him."

"Shut up." The irken snapped. "He's weird."

"Says the alien invader with an ego problem," Dib chuckled as he watched Zim scowl.

There was a sudden loud bong noise from the nearby intacom, and sweet yet somehow sadistic sounding woman's voice called out. "Dinner's finished! Everyone please go to your rooms in a quiet manner or we'll beat you up."

"... this is one weird asylum, you know that?" Dib replied as the two stood up.

There was a long single line system, as each patient had to be checked down for anything they might be trying to smuggle back to their rooms. Not that it worked of course because people managed to get stuff back all the time, including Zim, who was trying to build a small lock-pick and a small bomb. The cafeteria food really was that terrible.

Dib stood beside Zim as they made their way down the line, still bickering away of course. They always bickered, it was one of the few things they were still allowed to do here.

A doctor suddenly walked past them, just as Zim was arguing how a proton cannon would totally work better than ion cannon. He was a tall, thin man with small half-moon glasses and dark hair. His name tag read 'Dr Jekyll'.

"Ah," He paused and smiled at the Zim. "Hello Zim. How are you feeling this evening?"

"I'm fine, now stop interrupting me." Zim turned back to Dib. "Anyway you're wrong, a low orbital ion cannon would do far less devastation than a-"

"I have to tell you Zim, that we may be upping your dosage soon." He raised an eyebrow slowly. "Dib's too I guess."

"Dib doesn't even take medication." Zim snapped back at the doctor as the line shuffled on.

"Of course he doesn't." The doctor mused slowly. "Well we look forward to seeing you in group tomorrow, okay?"

"Whatever," Zim looked away and crossed his arms as they neared the front of the line.

The doctor only chuckled. "Always the tough nut to crack, right Zim? You and Dib have a good night now." And at that he walked on with a knowing smile on his face.

"Can you believe that asshole?" Dib commented as soon as the doctor was out of earshot.

Zim held up his arms as they began searching him, even though they weirdly enough never bothered checking his PAK which weirdly didn't seem to work as well as it used to. Otherwise he would have just blasted his way out of here by now. "He thinks he knows everything about the mighty ZIM! Well he's just another meatbag human like the rest of you."

"Gee, thanks," Dib walked through the checkpoint without anyone searching him, turning to look back at Zim.

Zim only grinned in victory as they let him pass and began making his way towards his room, Dib of course following beside him.

They had been inducted here together, examined together. Despite hating one another deeply they knew that in this place everything was even. They had to keep on each other's backs, otherwise they'd never get out.

Zim arrived at his room which, despite his megolmaniacal tendencies, actually in the 'low risk' part of the asylum. That wasn't to say he used to be in the high risk section, but that was the first few months of him being thrown in. He fought and bit and screamed and did anything he could to get out. Then Dib slowly convinced him, alone in his cell, that maybe if he played the game a little he could at least get more favourable conditions.

The room was small, one bed, one wardrobe and a small shelf for books and other things he might want, almost everywhere was covered in books. Zim kept a lot of books, when he couldn't get to the internet, phone or any kind of outside help, he simply spent the time reading. He was working his way through Romantic poets right now, covering John Clair.

He pushed a bunch of books from the bed and lay down onto it, staring up at the ceiling. "I hate this place. So much."

"I'm sure you do." Dib sat on the floor, his back against the bed.

"No. I mean it. I hate this place. I hate this room, this hospital, this planet. I hate it." He didn't move, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, yet his eyes narrowed slowly. "I hate being here. I hate these pathetic worm-people trying to pick my brain apart."

"Then bust out, you keep saying you're going too." Dib replied with a slight frown.

"Shut up, you know that they stop my every attempt and throw me in here to rot every time I try." Zim snapped back, the irken's narrow eyes looking down to Dib.

"You're a genius alien invader trained to take down nations. How is escaping out of one room impossible for you?" The human replied instantly, his frown deepening to one of annoyance.

Zim really had no answer for this. The odds should be massively backed in his favour, and yet, he was still here. Still under their care.

"Why don't you get up and go? Hum?" Dib's voice cut through the silence of Zim's answer like a sword, "You know as well as I do you can do it. Just get up and go."

"... I..." Zim had a moment where it seemed he couldn't reply, then suddenly, he picked up a book and threw it at Dib. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I CAN LEAVE ANY TIME I WANT! SHUT UP!"

Dib dodged the book and stood up, glaring at him. "Stop making excuses! Stop hiding behind finger pointing! ADMIT YOU NEED HELP! ADIMT YOU'RE BAD AT INVADING!"

"I am not hiding anything!" Zim counted angrily. "It's never my fault! It's you or Gir or some other thing that always stops me! I'm perfect! You always step in to try and put me down and make me feel stupid, but it's NEVER my fault! I do nothing wrong! I AM A GOOD INVADER!"

The human said nothing. He just looked down on Zim and shook his head, turning away and walking towards the thrown book, picking it up and putting back onto a shelf.

"HA! Defeated by the mighty truth of Zim!" The irken grinned, though inside he felt sick. He always did when talking to Dib about this kind of stuff, it was why he avoided saying much of anything at group therapy sessions.

"Whatever." Dib answer slowly. His voice wasn't upset or angry, it just sounded... blank. Like he knew he was getting no where whether he argued or not.

"Whatever, exactly whatever," Zim smirked, laying back onto the bed. "I'm going to get out one day you know. Just you wait. Then I'll take over this ball of filth and everyone will see how great I am."

Dib smiled slowly. "Yeah. I'm sure you will."

* * *

_How'd you all enjoy that? Huh? Get what really happened yet? Lemmie give you a hint, look back over the story (if you have no idea btw) and watch DIB closely. Very closely. There are a lot of small hints in this that point to the real answer as to why Zim's in this place. _

_I won't name the references, cos it'd give away too much. I will mention however that the title to the story comes from a John Clair poem called 'The Flitting' which this story is closely related to. Also John Clair was a poet who went utterly crazy, so it's a double meaning thing. Clever huh?  
_

_Anyways, thanks for reading, reviewing, all that awesomeness. Hope you enjoyed it! Bai for now kiddies!_


End file.
